


Playing With Fire

by Rambo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, I have no idea where I got the idea, but I'm glad I did, crushing!Sansa, hot!Sandor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6309844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambo/pseuds/Rambo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of the Blackwater, the Hound isn't seen for many days. Most believe him to be dead or to have turned craven and run away... but the truth is so much more interesting. Sansa hears of his return, and what she sees, is not at all what she was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing With Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I'm such a piece of crap for not having updated my other story in like... Pftt... months. But I will, I just have been having bad writers block. Anyways, I was going through my old notes and found this, so I decided to post it. No promises on continuing this, I'll try, but I honestly have no clue what to do with it. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

Sansa was curious for as to why the Red Keep was so bustling today. As Sansa walked down the halls she heard nothing but the buzz of conversation and excited whispering as she walked past nobles. Most were walking too quickly towards the throne room for Sansa to catch their words, but here and there she caught a snippet of the conversations. "Yes, the Hound!"   
"They say, after the battle, he-"   
"He hadn't been seen for days!"  
"Everyone thought he was dead!"  
"Or that he turned tail and ran!"  
"Oh, gods! I can't wait to see him!"  
"His face-"

Sansa confusedly stared after the courtiers as she passed. 'The Hound?' Sansa blushed as she thought back to his body pressing her's into her mattress, but then frowned at remembering the dagger he had pressed to her throat. But she had sang, and he had wept, and then left her with nothing but a bloody cloak and an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. 'Oh gods! What happened to him? They said he hadn't been seen! Was he hurt? And they mentioned his face... Could he have been further burned? Oh, the poor man...' Sansa thought and worried on her lower lip with her teeth. A couple more noblewomen passed by Sansa, "He's in the throne room!"   
"I want to see him!"

'Were they talking about the Hound? Was he further disfigured and everyone was dashing to get a look and make fun of him?' Sansa immediately turned heel and began walking at a much more brisk pace than anyone else in the halls. Her skirts swished from side to side as her hurried steps carried her to the throne room. The doors were wide open and throngs of people poured in, Sansa slipped through them and managed to get to the front of the crowd. 

The noble men and women were all whispering loudly and all the conversations formed into one giant din. Sansa frowned at the noise and tried to poke her head over everyone in front of her. She was tall, but still not quite the height to scan above a crowd. She apologized as she moved her way further forwards in the mass of people and staggered a bit as she burst through the front of the crowd. She quickly scrambled back so Joffrey didn't see her and peered through the bodies of the people before her. She couldn't see at first, but then a man shifted over in front of her and she locked her eyes on Joffrey. He was grinning widely at the huge crowd of people before him. Sansa's eyes then travelled behind Joffrey to his sworn shield...

Sansa gasped. Her heart began hammering in her chest and heat rushed to her face. 'The Hound... he's... beautiful.' There he stood, in all his glory. His burns were gone. Where the Hound used to be horribly scarred, his face was whole. His hooked nose wasn't crooked anymore, his lips were more full, his face less unhealthily gaunt and more beautifully angular, his hair was thick and wavy. But his strong jaw remained, and his deep set grey eyes, and high cheekbones. He still looked fierce, but there was a dark beauty about him. He was perhaps more handsome than Ser Jaime with his rugged beauty. His appeal was more of a masculine look than a feminine one. 

The entire crowd of courtiers had exploded into loud conversations. People were still trying to pour in, but Joffrey order the doors closed. He was still grinning widely as he stood up, "Lords and Ladies! As you all know, we won the battle against the pretender Stannis Baratheon," loud cheers went up from the crowd and Joffrey continued grinning. He lowered his hands to quiet them and the room fell silent, "And, as you well know, my DOG here ran from the battle... like a craven!" Whispers went up, not pertaining to Sandor Clegane's sudden comeliness. "But he returned, and the gods saw fit to reward him. Even if he did run in the first place," Joffrey sneered. "What do you have to say to that, dog?" 

The Hound's face was a mask of indifference as he spoke, "I've never been a very pious man, Your Grace. And I wish the gods had left me alone as they've always seen fit to," Joffrey's face twisted for a moment. He wasn't sure if the Hound was being insulting or saying that he was unfit for reward. He chose the latter.   
"Right, dog. The gods should have let you be indeed, a craven should not be rewarded for his actions," Sansa could tell that what the Hound said did not mean what Joffrey thought it did, she had said many things like it in the past. 

After Joffrey had seen to trying to humiliate the Hound, he dismissed the courtiers to begin seeing peasants, nobles, and merchants about various issues regarding rebuilding King's Landing after Stannis' attack. The Hound was also dismissed, as Ser Meryn Trant now stood guard behind Joffrey. Sansa was quite surprised the Hound hadn't faced any further reprimand, seeing as he still wore the white cloak of the King's Guard. Mayhaps Tywin prevented Joffrey from harassing their best and most loyal warrior. Sansa fidgeted in the crowd as her eyes stayed glued to the Hound as he exited from a door off the side of the throne room. 

Once she had escaped the crowd, Sansa rushed towards her room. As soon as she was in private she let out a little sigh and clutched her chest. 'The Hound, what happened to him?' Sansa thought to herself. Sansa was quite afraid of speaking to the Hound again, she feared the wouldn't be able to keep her feeling hidden. And if she couldn't, he may interpret them as being a product of his new good looks. But they weren't... Oh, they weren't. They had been building and building for quite some time, every time they would be alone and he would force his harsh words upon her... Sansa came to appreciate them, and how he seemed to care about her in his own odd way. She also appreciated how he always refused to hit her and how he seemed to be the only person who didn't enjoy seeing her hurt. 

Sansa was suddenly terrified. She would have to speak to him sooner or later, they always did. When she ventured out into the keep at night or on her return from the Gods Wood, he always managed to find her. And when he did, the thought came back to how he would perceive her blushes and panicked words. He would see them as those of a stupid little girl crushing on a pretty man in armor. "But that's not it at all!" Sansa cried out. "I liked him with the scars, and crooked nose. I even liked how he would comb his hair! I liked it all, as harsh and cruel as it was!"

Sansa felt tears well up in her eyes as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed. She then perked up and shook her head, "No! If I worry about him misinterpreting my feeling then I won't show them at all. I can't. I won't." Sansa resigned herself to using the same face and demeanor as she did with Joffrey and it made her heart sink and feel like she was going to be sick. But it had to be done.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sansa was returning from her meet with Ser Dontos in the Gods Wood. She walked through the dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, her heart fluttering as much as the light on the walls from the torches. She couldn't do it... Ser Dontos had given her a time to escape, but she just couldn't do it. There was a queer feeling she got when she was around him, as if he wasn't one to trust. It gripped her stomach as she talked to him and refused to let go until she had left at a light run. 

Sanaa's heart raced as she made her way her way back to her chambers. The idea of her getting caught sneaking around at night by some guard and being brought to Joffrey to be judged and punished made her sick to her stomach. She peered around every corner and tried her hardest to be quiet. She was just a few halls away when she heard heavy footsteps accompanied by the clinking of armor. Sansa panicked and ran forward to a dark alcove to hide. Her heart hammered as the steps grew closer, she placed a hand over her mouth to try and quiet her breathing. 

The steps passed in front of the alcove and Sansa gave a slight gasp as she saw the hulking seven foot figure of the Hound pass in front of her. He immediately stopped walking and turned to look into the pitch blackness of the alcove. "Who the fuck is in there?" he snarled. Sansa blushed, because even with his face twisted in anger he was still stunning to look at. The scars really had helped instill fear in anyone, but now he was a prized show dog, not a fearsome guard dog. 

"I-It's me... Sansa Stark," Sansa stepped forward into the weak light of the torched for the Hound to see her.   
"Little Bird? What are you doing out of your cage so late at night?" his voice was softer but still had an edge to it. Sansa almost didn't answer the question, as she was too busy staring at how straight his nose was now.   
"I was praying, in the Gods Wood," Sansa's voice was weak as she responded.   
"Almost couldn't get that out, Little Bird. You were gawking at me like some half wit. I know I look like those knights in your stories now, all fair and comely. Go on, have your look!" He snarled and got close to Sansa face. She chastised herself for not hiding her feelings better, and instead of shying away from the Hound's closeness, Sansa began to giggle. He looked almost offended when she did.   
"I'm sorry! The irony of the situation is getting to me," Sansa clutched her stomach as another wave of giggles overtook her. The Hound looked horribly confused and agitated at her surprise reaction. "It's just... You used to do the same thing, only it was so I could look at your scars. And now, it's so I can look at your-" Sansa stopped immediately as she saw just how much the Hound was fuming. He seemed to be holding back from screaming at her and shaking her until she burst into tears. 

Sansa lowered her head and wrung her hands in her dress. "No, girl. Finish what you were going to say. How I used to make you look at how ugly I was and now you have to stare at my comely face. You poor thing." He sneered at her and jerked away.   
Before she could stop herself, Sansa blurted out, "I never thought you ugly, my lord." He narrowed his eyes at that. "And I wasn't staring at your comeliness. I just thought it odd how straight your nose was. I quite liked it crooked, it made you more fierce." She immediately blushed at her words and muttered and apology. Sansa attempted to rush out of the alcove and past the Hound, but he grabbed her arm before she could flee.

Sansa looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to teach her another harsh lesson or berate her for her silly words about crooked and straight noses. He opened his mouth and Sansa leaned forward slightly, expectant. But then it snapped shut and he released her arm with such force that Sansa staggered for a moment. She stared as he worked his chiseled jaw, mulling over what he was going to say if anything at all. He opened his mouth again and spoke, "Fly back to your cage, Little Bird." Sansa nodded and turned around quite slowly, stifling the urge to turn back and look at him once more. She walked back to her chambers at a brisk pace, not encountering anyone else on her way there. She dressed for bed, and laid down. Sansa clutched her stomach at the odd heat that had settled there. Her breaths were shaky and her heart hadn't quite stopped racing.   
"What is he doing to me?"

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some feedback on what you thought! It was just a super wild and crazy idea I had and I decided to write it. For some reason, the idea of Sandor becoming super hot and having to deal with all these women who shied away and were terrified of him for years, suddenly being all over him... It's kind of sad and a cruel situation to put him in, but I'd like to write some of the interactions. I think there could be some pretty funny moments. Thanks for reading! Please drop a comment!


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